Tall and composed she moves with the confident, slightly languid gait of someone used to being observed. Her skin carries a faint luminescent seamwork that looks like silver river veins running from her throat up across the jaw and curling behind the ears. Her left eye is a pale opal that shimmers with constellations when she is casting; her right eye is ordinary deep brown. She wears layered robes that appear at once ceremonial and scavenged from battlefield banners; when she walks a thin mist trails her feet that smells faintly of salt and old incense. Contradiction: while her face reads ancient and austere her hands are manicured and ink-stained with childish doodles of little gods and impossible maps.